Here’s something interesting for you. Nobody who works on this book smokes. Not Steve Englehart, writer, not Al Milgrom, penciler, not Joe Sinnott, inker, not Tom Orzechowski letter, not Ken Feduniewicz, colorist, and not Howard Mackie or myself. Not only that, on Marvel’s current editorial staff (namely, myself and Howard, Mike Carlin and Bobbie Chase, Larry Hama and Pat Redding, Ralph Macchio and Craig Anderson, Carl Potts and Rosemary McCormick-Lowy, Ann Nocenti and Terry Kavanaugh, Sid Jacobson and Nancy Brown, Jim Owsley and Adam Blaustein, Eliot Brown and John Morelli, Bob Harras and Don Daley, plus Michael Higgins, Tom DeFalco, and Jim Shooter)–only five out of twenty-three are regular users of tobacco products. (They know who they are.) What’s the significane this? Whatever you want it to be.
Personally, I don’t allow smoking in my office because it clouds up my contact lenses, it makes my throat raw, and it makes my clothes smell like a chimney sweep’s (no offense to you chimney sweeps). Besides New York air is toxic enough–I don’t need to aggravate my lungs any further.
I’m not one to give unasked for advice, but if I did, you can guess what it would be. (If you can’t, write Mark’s Remarks in care of this magazine, and I’ll let you know in writing.)